Memoirs of a broken lock

“How do you turn this rusty broken lock into a story?” he asked her. She smiled to herself and said, “Ah, yes. I thought you’d never ask.”

This story, my dear, is a series of relentlessly unfortunate events that snowballed into breaking of a seemingly ordinary lock. It dates back to when she was 16, growing up in a world that was harsher than her wildest nightmare. What she desired most was to escape into a wilderness, a place where promises were kept by all of their makers. She craved to be understood and accepted for being who she was. She loved people in a crazy, stupidly intense way. Her world was so surreal that the romantics would have been proud. But what she didn’t know was that the society around her wasn’t ready for her desires.

She was not aware of the depth of these societal traps. She didn’t know what patriarchy meant and how it would change her entire life. Being 16 in this world isn’t easy. It’s that time when you have you magical firsts like she had hers. The kiss that stole her naïve heart away, the boy who made her nervous, the friends who were to last forever, all those promises that were made. You guessed it right, the magic faded away just a little before her friends did. But her world came crashing down when she came home and saw the broken lock on her bedroom door. Her parents had fallen prey to a society that demanded for girls to get their wings clipped, so they wouldn’t fly.

So what did she do when all her secrets lay nakedly around her bedroom floor, with the open pages of her personal diaries? She cried, until there was nothing left to cry about. She looked at the broken lock everyday hoping it would fix itself. But when it didn’t, she knew what she had to do. She registered that sight in her mind and liberated herself the way that lock had. She decided to live her life unapologetically, to keep people at a safe distance, to not let romanticism control her anymore and most importantly, to love herself like no one had ever loved her.

*As seen upon returning from school- 12th grade

“Wow. That’s quite a story, but didn’t she face more problems going against her parents?” He asked.

“Why of course she did, and that’s what made her so strong. She learnt to save herself before letting anyone else try and fail. She also had dark phases, some darker than most, but you see, some people are just so irrationally stubborn about being okay that their paths always lead them back to themselves. She was one of those.”

He looked like he was in a state of trance. He took a pause and said, “So where is she now? How is she?”

I can’t help but smile at this boy before I continue, “Well she’s within all of us, isn’t she? You know the feeling that nudges you to go on? That’s her. The broken lock signifies that you’re not bound to anything. Everything is so susceptible to breaking hon, don’t you think? We’re so fragile with all our egos and charades that we so proudly flaunt around. We need her to keep us sane, to feel the hurt and keep moving forward. So the next time someone breaks the lock to your personal door, thank them, think of her and walk right through it. Her 16 year old self would be so proud of you.”

Advertisements

Darkness of a song.

What is it about tonight that feels so calm?
What is it that’s keeping me up?
Maybe it’s you and the memories of you.
Maybe it’s what you sound like, inside my head.
The most beautiful madness I’ve experienced,
Is enchanted by the way you look tonight.
Would you show me what you desire?
If I show you my tragic lies?
Would you let me have my weak moments,
And yet hold me tight?
I can’t promise you a forever,
But I promise you love in it’s purest form.
Some say it’s insanity, I call it being alive.
What are we, if not two lonely souls,
Who happened to own the nights?
Darling I’ve seen many,
They come and go as they please.
But the darkest song I ever wrote?
Is the one you’ll never hear about.
A fakir with unrelentlessly glimmering eyes,
All I have are my words, my love,
And for you, I’ll carry them right on the edge of my sleeves.

You are bigger.

It’s a Friday night, and you’re alone in your room,

Why don’t you pour out that wine and sip it, watching gossip girl?

Or read that book that you’ve been trying to finish,

Since forever?

Wear your favourite dress, out on that dark lipstick,

Put on your favourite playlist on that speaker of yours.

Twirl a little, have a pizza or go for a run,

This life is yours and yours alone.

There’s no one that matters the way you do,

No one you’d rather be.

You’re kind, you love so deep, complete in yourself,

You don’t need another person to be your “better half”,

You’re not a broken puzzle, looking for pieces to fit together,

All your puzzles are right inside you, already fixed.

Take that solo trip you’ve always wanted to, you don’t need anyone,

For the best company you can get is of yourself.

Expand beyond the horizons of what this world has to offer,

In this moment and all that will follow, you are a beautiful enigma,

Your world sure is big, but you are bigger.

Why are modern day theories of empowerment not helping us practically?

3 years of law school taught me more than I’d learnt in 2 decades of my life. Heck I’d go as far as to claim that these years changed my perception of the entire goddamn world, a feat no family member could have ever achieved. I’ve perfected the theories that grant me a sense of empowerment (especially since I identify myself as a woman), and a belief that I’m capable of doing just about anything I set my mind to. But somewhere down the process of implementation, this is all they tend to remain, mere theories.

Why is it that when most of us get romantically involved with a partner, we end up compromising on all kinds of theories that law school tries to chip into our brains? Through the two serious relationships I’ve had in these 3 years, I realize the end of each one was sporadically spread out with short and long intervals of emotional abuse. And each time it happened, each time one of us walked away, each time one of us broke up or suggested it, we thought to ourselves, “Oh but this time was an exception, it’ll get better henceforth”; Except it never really got anywhere close to getting better.

I’ve read all kinds of feminist theories, radical, liberal etc., and none were in favour of what my cycle of relationships went through. I realize that real life relationships, especially those that are romantic in nature, aren’t simple enough to perfectly fit into a specific theory. But does that mean we don’t implement these theories at all? While the complexities of a human mind will always pave ways for irrationalities, can we not try and suppress it by the knowledge we gain through texts? If I can take abuse from my partner on irregular intervals that only get more and more regular, and preach feminism on social media, does that make me a hypocrite? Does the fact that I don’t want anyone else to go through anything remotely akin to my situation and I keep going through it anyway, make me a hypocrite? Do I need to really implement all that I preach or do I give my relationships certain amount of leverage because well, “He and I are going to last forever”.

I think our generation is the loneliest and campus lives are the hardest. Once you’re out of the comfortably monotonous routine you live by for all your life at home and are put in a hostel with people of your own age group, the place starts getting intimidating. Every other person seems so much more happier, every other instagram/facebook profile seems so perfect, and soon enough, every other relationship seems straight out of freaking Hollywood. But wait, stop for a second and analyze this situation. That picture which portrays such a happy couple was taken right after they had one of their ugliest fights. So why is it up on social media then? Oh because getting approval from our peer is the latest way to determine how good our private lives our. We’ve all done this. I have too. Guilty as charged.

This loneliness that stems from our unwillingness to embrace our own company is probably what is harming most of us at this very moment. Broke up with your partner? Get on tinder already! Why? Because Friday night was date night, what do I do alone now? How about get some pizza and wine and have a date with yourself? You might be pleasantly surprised with just how fun you can be. A close friend of mine told me this and ever since, my Friday nights have not been lonely. I think the only way we will stop taking someone else’s shit is when we stop brushing off everything under the supreme umbrella of “love”.

I heard my 19 year old sister tell me how she couldn’t break up with her boyfriend even though she realized and recognized the toxicity in her relationship. “But why can’t you?” I asked her. “Because I love him and I can’t imagine my life without him”, she answered. Is this really love? Being hurt over and over again, crying so much that you become comfortably numb, alienating yourself from everything that once gave you joy, making your whole life about caring for someone else, is that really what love requires?

Because honey, if that’s love and you’re expected to invest so much of your emotions into it simply because you can’t be alone, I’m out. If love requires hypocrisy, then maybe it’s time to redefine love. How about we try placing ourselves before any partner we might ever have and then see how another human fits into our lives? How about, for once, we give ourselves a break and breathe at a pace that suits us? I’ve seen way too many socially and politically empowered persons completely switching their stances when it came down to their personal lives and that is just sad. So how about this, let’s try and practice the theories that once impressed us so much that we defined ourselves using them? Let’s try. Please.